


Illicit Affairs

by justasparkwriting



Series: folklore [3]
Category: bts, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Contracts, Dating, F/M, Folklore, Hyung line, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Love, Maknae line, Negotiations, Other, Rule breaker, affair, bangtan - Freeform, bts - Freeform, illicit affairs, meetings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:47:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27694349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justasparkwriting/pseuds/justasparkwriting
Summary: BTS’ contract is up for negotiating, and as leader, Namjoon has to reckon with what he’s willing to sign away, what he’s going to fight for, and the damage he’s done to his bandmates, best friends, brothers. Will he ruin himself a million times?
Relationships: Kim Namjoon | RM & Original Female Character(s), Kim Namjoon | RM/Reader, Kim Namjoon | RM/You
Series: folklore [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2012737
Comments: 17
Kudos: 9





	1. Clandestine Meetings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Namjoon has to grapple with the decisions he’s made and the lives he’s participated in destroying.

Namjoon slipped into the conference room, sport coat over a hoodie and matching sweats. His hair quaffed back, glasses on, bag slung across his shoulder. He had been dreading this meeting for weeks, months. Every few years their contract with BigHit needed negotiating, and being the leader, the role of representing the best interest of the seven men fell to him. He loathed negotiations, detested the position they put him in, and absolutely despised the imbalance of power in the meetings. BTS had lawyers, but their lawyers still worked for BigHit. A defunct HR department more so than barristers dedicated to protecting their rights as performers, creators and men. This meeting was going to be worse than the others, if the sinking feeling in his gut was any indication. Not only was their contract nearly up, but they had the precarious position of trying to figure out what would happen during Jin’s military service, which would be followed by Yoongi and the 94’s. He knew the contracts would include some clause or addendum regarding the mandatory order, and he could only guess what new rules management would be placing on them.

The entire Maknae Line was at risk, none of them would step up and lead, but if the plans to postpone service until Jin turned 30 was available, it would give the other members more time to grow out of childish early twenty-somethings into the grown men they had to be. The only bright spot in all of this was the fact that Jin would hopefully be back before the Maknae were truly alone, followed by Yoongi. Namjoon wasn’t comforted by the idea of Jin leading the group, but that was selfishness and pride speaking. Jin would be an excellent leader if given the opportunity.

Namjoon was similarly dreading the conversation because a plan had to be created to mitigate the damage Jungkook was supposedly doing, and to inhibit him from destroying everything BigHit had accomplished in the last decade. Namjoon, being the keeper of the Golden Maknae, was going to be forced to sign papers that ensured Jungkook’s cooperation while he, Ho-Seok, Yoongi and Jin were gone.

The grip BigHit had on the seven members could only be compared to Britney Spears conservatorship. She had her conservators, aka her father… and BTS had Bang.

Bang Si-hyuk was not a vicious man in nature. He was charismatic, charming, determined. He was not cruel, and he didn’t gain pleasure from watching BTS squirm. He had created BigHit to craft and groom Idols, capitalizing on the ever-booming K-Pop network and exploiting the talents of naïve youth and feeding on the despair of distressed parents. He preyed on the hungry, the poor, the outcasts, and he turned them into fucking billionaires. BTS was Midas, and Bang reaped all the benefits.

Bang wasn’t the only one manipulating children, robbing them of their futures, their family, their ability to have any semblance of a normal life. Every other music group and K-Pop mastermind was feeding off of the same labors. Despite the hard facts of the BigHit company, and K-Pop culture, Bang had been wonderful to the boys. He was always laughing and joking with them, encouraging them to explore different musical whims or try new sounds. But he also ran a business, and Namjoon would be hard pressed to forget that fact. No matter how much Bang loved them, they were the golden ticket he’d worked his entire life to find.

Namjoon was let into the conference room, where Bang and the team of BigHit lawyers sat, as well as a few people from marketing. Joon bowed, gave his greetings and sat down.

“Namjoon, how are you?” Bang asked.

“Fine, thank you, and you?” Namjoon was always polite, overly so.

“Good, how’s Y/N?” Bang inquired.

Namjoon cleared his throat, uncomfortable with the mention of his secret partner. “She’s great.”

“Good, now, we wanted to speak to you about Jungkook,” Bang said, directing Namjoon’s gaze to the screen mounted on the wall. A slide show of Jungkook’s misgivings began to play. Namjoon cursed silently. This was the meeting they were having.

“Alright,” Namjoon glanced down from the screen to his bag, where he pulled out and opened his notebook, pen poised at the ready.

“We’re concerned with his displays of disobedience,” Bang continued.

“Can you be more specific?” Namjoon asked.

“The tattoos, the hair colors, the collaborating with less desirable artists, his refusal to participate in V Lives, his general disregard for the rules, and the growing alcoholism,” Bang listed.

“He’s having growing pains,” Namjoon tried to level with him.

“He is grown, he has debuted, he has a contract,” Bang said.

“Jungkook wants to express himself, and he’s trying to find ways to do that,” Namjoon offered. Couldn’t they find a compromise? Not on the drinking, Namjoon would fully admit that was a problem.

“Ways that are damaging to all of you,” The marketing team said, side eyeing Joon.

“Respectfully, they are not,” Namjoon said.

“Jimin is getting tattoos,” Bang retorted.

“Jimin is his own person,” Namjoon rebuffed.

“Jimin is influenced by Jungkook.”

“We’re all influenced by one another, it’s been a decade, we spend every day together, it’s bound to happen.” Namjoon was growing impatient.

“You were supposed to keep an eye on him, but between you and Jin, you’ve led him astray,” Bang accused.

“I’m not sure that’s fair,” Namjoon said, breathing heavily through his nose, “Jungkook is making decisions for himself, he can decide what to do with his body. It’s his after all.”

“The decisions he is making effect all seven of you,” Bang countered.

“They aren’t effecting us negatively, ARMY loves his tattoos, they spend so much time trying to decipher what they mean. His entire hand is dedicated to BTS and ARMY.”

“They do not fit the image of this company,”

“Then why didn’t you fire him? He is always covered, always. We all are,” Namjoon shook his head.

“Aside from the tattoos, his desire to not participate in group filmings is unacceptable, and there’s still the problem of his drinking.”

“Have you had this conversation with Jungkook?” Namjoon asked.

“Yes, but you need to follow through on your obligations, Namjoon,” Bang’s words cut.

“Yes sir, I will.” Namjoon bowed.

“Jungkook needs to know his place if he is to make it through your military service. The four of you leaving in succession will destroy everything we’ve built. Jungkook and the Maknae line will be what remains while you are serving and recovering from active duty. If Jungkook doesn’t know what his place is, you will have nothing to return to.” Bang was an absolutist. Nothing was grey, it was clearly defined or could be with a few lines in their next contract.

“Jungkook is the best of all of us, he can handle it.”

“He needs to stop collaborating with low charting American artists, and British pop groups formed on reality shows. It’s lowering exposure in western markets and putting a damper on sales of BTS albums. He also needs to stop getting tattoos. A full sleeve is more than enough.”

“Sir, what will Jungkook do when he’s, thirty?”

“Depends what his contract says.”

Namjoon bowed his head.

“The Maknae line needs to be prepared for when the four of you are gone. They do not have a clear leader; they spend their time giggling and joking around. Who will step up?”

“Taehyung would be a great leader, so would Jungkook or Jimin. The Maknae work well together, as a subunit they are strong. They are excellent singers and dancers, Jungkook has excelled at creating videos, Jimin’s song writing has improved ten times over as has his leadership, and Taehyung has excellent taste, an impeccable palate as an art director. The three of them are capable of handling themselves, when Jin-hyung and Yoongi-hyung are done with service, the five of them will excel at creating their own work.”

“Namjoon, you seem to think that people want music produced by three vocalists,”

“Taehyung can rap, so can Jungkook.”

“What makes you so certain they’ll rise to the occasion?” Bang asked.

“They have to and they will,” Namjoon said, voice determined.

“Good, now, your contracts are coming up in a few months, and we need to look at a few details,” Bang motioned for the legal team to join, and they passed Namjoon a copy of their current contract. The marketing team left quietly, bowing and slipping out the door almost unnoticed.

“Shouldn’t Jin be here? Or the other members?” Namjoon asked, eyes scouring the familiar pages. “I don’t think I should be the lone member in these negotiations.”

“You’re the leader,” Bang stated.

“It’s their careers and futures, sir,” Namjoon bowed his head, unwilling to show any disrespect.

“The decision was made that you were the leader, are you not?”

“I am but –

“But nothing, you are the liaison, you will communicate any changes in your contracts to them before they come in to sign them.” Bang said. The lawyers nodded in unison.

“Are there changes?” Namjoon asked.

“Yes, we have put a note by all the changes, take a minute to read them.” One of the lawyers said.

Namjoon glanced at the notes sticking out, how could there be so many changes? His eyes glanced over the first change.

_Heretofore, no member of BTS may publicly or privately engage in romantic relationships with members of the same or opposite sex. Promiscuous or philandering behavior will not be tolerated and could result in expulsion or a financial penalty._

_Any article, Tweet, TikTok or Instagram post about any relationship that a BTS member is engaging in will result in said member paying the fee for scrubbing said incident from the media and any subsequent scandals or fines._

He read it again.

“Why this change in relationship status?”

“It’s not a change, but a clarification,” A lawyer said.

“A clarification of what? That if anyone is attracted to the same sex, they can’t be with them?” Namjoon raised his eyebrow, unsure who told Bang the Kinsey scale leanings of the seven members.

“It is to cover all bases,” The lawyers ensured. “To prohibit unfavorable pairings, pregnancies, diseases or most likely, scandals.”

“How much is this fee?” Namjoon asked, eyes wide.

“Depends on the member, some ten thousand, others, hundred thousand,” One of the lawyers said.

“What about me?” He whispered.

“Your contract continues to state that you are allowed to date as long as it is kept 100% in secret, absolutely private, and should you break up, she signs an NDA stating that she will not speak ill of you, your relationship, BTS or any members in perpetuity. Should she break this agreement, a fine of one million dollars will be paid.” Another lawyer answered.

Namjoon nodded, the agreement of your relationship had caused a lot of fights, a lot of bickering, a lot of tears. Namjoon had to be certain you were the one in order to get Bang to let him even take you out or call you.

Namjoon adjusted his glasses before moving to the next note.

_BigHit remains the sole proprietor of all content, music, lyrics, and productions created by BTS. This includes all solo work created on company property, with company studios and materials. All artwork, publishing rights and revenue belongs in perpetuity to BigHit. BTS members have access to their catalogue and revenue through BigHit’s legal team and through written permission from management. All recordings, voice memos, music videos and song samples used in any BTS created content may not be used by any members for solo projects not produced by BigHit._

Namjoon read the words over and over. He glanced at their old contract, noting the slight changes in the paragraph from their previous agreement. 

_In perpetuity to BigHit._

Everything they’d ever made, everything they’d ever done, from debut to now, belonged to BigHit. This wasn’t new information, this wasn’t shocking, but _in perpetuity_ , forever and ever and ever… Namjoon couldn’t wrap his head around it.

“Can I take this home?” Namjoon asked, looking at the team, a cold sweat coating his back.

“Both copies?” A lawyer asked hesitantly.

“I need to read through it, to process it, I need a little time, if allowed,” Namjoon cleared his throat.

“Fine, bring your thoughts to our next meeting. You all must sign this before your current contract is up, and before one of you leaves for Military Service. You have a week,” Bang and his crew stood up, and Namjoon followed suit, bowing before collecting his items.

As he entered the dorm, he noted the chaotic calm of their living quarters. Though they drifted from their own apartments into the shared space, it was common that in the evenings they would share a meal, watch a movie or play games together. Jungkook was trying to beat Yoongi in some video game, Jin was laughing with Ho-Seok and Taehyung, and Jimin was vocalizing in the kitchen, making what looked like a cup of tea. Namjoon nodded at them waving hello before disappearing into his room.

He sat at his desk, looking at his blossoming plants, and pulled the papers out, moving from the first few pages to the next tabs.

He found the corresponding paragraph in their current contract and compared.

Their current contract stipulated that BTS would be credited as producers only on tracks they produced a minimum of 50% of. The new contract stipulated that they had to produce 75% of the track in order to receive credit.

The next line stated that lyrical credits only went to artists that wrote 2/3 of the lyrics of every song, rap lines included. The remaining percentage went to the producer.

Namjoon stared at the page. How would that be possible, with seven members, to receive credit for anything? As he continued reading, he found himself growing angrier and angrier at every page. He knew he’d signed his life away; he knew it years ago. But this? This was tearing his limbs off his body and feeding it to the wolves. 

He picked up his phone and called you.

“Hey babe, what’s up?” You asked, chipper disposition finding a way to travel across the globe to Korea.

“The new contract is, it’s fucking awful,” Namjoon said, dropping his pen and running a hand through his hair.

“How could it be worse?” You questioned. “It’s like, two hundred pages of absolute bullshit.”

“The phrase _in perpetuity_ has been used more than once,” He said.

“No!” You gasped.

“They added new language about dating and relationships too,” Namjoon told you.

“With the sub section that you, as leader, have been afforded this one privilege over the others?” You inquired, setting your sleepy-time tea down.

“You know that’s only in my contract,” He said, a faint smile on his lips.

“Still, they aren’t changing that?” You hinted at your worry.

“I’m surprised they haven’t put more stipulations on it: Namjoon can date but only Korean women of a certain age and height,” He laughed darkly.

“Namjoon can date but cannot spend the night or engage in sexual activity, or any activity that could lead to the creating of a child, including jacking off in a hot tub,” You deadpanned.

“Namjoon can date, but only if she has no idea who BTS is,” Namjoon chuckled.

“Hmm, seems like you’re going to an indigenous tribe with no internet,” You suggested.

“I just want you,” Namjoon whispered.

“I know, babe,” You said. “tell me more about the contract.”

“I don’t know what to do, it’s iron clad, they’ve got us where they want us, and they won’t let go,” He sighed heavily, already exhausted and he hadn’t moved past the fifth post-it.

“They’re trying to get everything they can from you before you guys go serve,” You stated.

“It just seems so, degrading.”

“That they want all these things from you?” You asked.

“That they think they can control us,” Namjoon said.

“I thought they did,” You replied.

“I, yeah, yeah they do.” He sighed again, his heart weighing heavy.

“So, what’s so different about this time?” You asked.

“They only ever negotiate with me, they never speak to the other guys,”

“And?” You pressed.

“And, I have to read this, ask the lawyers questions, and present it to the guys. They’re going to absolutely shit themselves. It literally says that members are required to complete a minimum of six hours of V Live per year, with a bonus given every additional hour completed,”

“What?” Your gasp was beyond audible.

“And, if a scandal ever arises, we have to pay to have it wiped from the media.”

“I mean, okay, that one I can see making a little sense.”

“Someone must’ve tipped them off to who we’re attracted to, because there’s a new stipulation that you can’t date any one of any sex, period.”

“Shut up! They can’t do that!”

“Oh, they did,”

“Holy fuck, they did… Who told?” You asked.

“No idea, but they’re going to be so angry,” Namjoon agreed.

“The discrimination…”

“The worst part? They own everything,” Namjoon said.

“Is that different?” You wondered. Namjoon had asked you to read over the contract years ago, when it was up for another negotiation. You’d asked your dad to take another look, his expertise in the industry proving to be useful. He didn’t have anything to say other than he felt bad for BTS, no rights, no representation, no ability to change the situation.

“In perpetuity, no chance to buy it back, no chance to own anything we’ve ever created, from debut to now.”

“Oh Joon,” You could hear the despair in his voice, the anguish, the _hurt_. Everything he’d ever worked for wasn’t his, and he knew it never would be.

“I feel so, responsible, like everything’s my fault,” Namjoon said dejectedly.

“Well, are you?” You pushed.

“It didn’t used to be this way. I mean, it did. They picked me first, they chose me to start this whole thing. They wanted me to help create this band that could be the _next big thing_. It was all I wanted, to rap, to make music, to help people heal through music, like I did. I had influence on who they put in the group, on why we have seven members instead of five or three… they listened to me, my vision… It was my group; sure, they pulled in Seokjin and gave me a list of people to look at… but BTS was _mine_. I signed the first contract, I read the terms and conditions, I signed us up for this.”

“Namjoon, you didn’t know,” Your heart was breaking.

“I knew better than to sign it all away,” His voice cracked.

“You were a child, Joon, a child,” You told him.

“I knew-

“No, you didn’t, they preyed on you. They used your insecurities, your desolation, your pain, and they fucking groomed you to need them, to be indebted to them. They did this to you.” Namjoon listened as you started crying, your words trying to speak the truth he couldn’t see.

“But I signed the contract,” Namjoon said. “It was impossible that we’d be anything.”

“You became everything,” You said.

“I signed their lives away, our rights, our work… I signed Jungkook,” Namjoon hadn’t realized the tears that had started falling. He let the weight of his statement run through him as the tears, like a winter storm, didn’t cease. “I signed Jungkook’s future away. He has nothing because of me.”

“Namjoon,”

“He can’t ever have a wife, he can’t have a family, he’s working himself to an early grave, he has no ability to understand what life is like outside of this, no ties to who he is as a person _because he doesn’t know_. Jungkook is an amalgamation of the six of us, he isn’t even his own! Nothing is his, and it’s my fucking fault.”

You listened to Namjoon’s cries, his sobs giving way to the dark thoughts he’d been avoiding for years. You listened to your cries mixing with his, distress flowing between receivers. You listened as he tried to rationalize it, tried to make sense of the damage he’d done. But he couldn’t, and you didn’t have anything to offer.

“Can you talk to Seokjin or Yoongi?” You whispered, Namjoon’s sobs subsiding.

“I’m not supposed to,” Namjoon said in between ragged breaths.

“Fuck supposed to, do you want to talk to them?”

“Yeah,” He said, sniffling the chunks of snot back into his nasal passages.

“I think it would be good, healthy for you to share this burden with them. You can’t carry this alone, Namjoon, not anymore,” You encouraged.

“I know,”

“Please, talk to them.” You said, voice soft.

“I will, I will.” Namjoon promised.

“I love you, Kim Namjoon, endlessly,” You said, the declaration firm and exact as it flowed from your lips. It punctured the air around Namjoon, and he glanced to the singular photo he had framed of you.

“I love you too, endlessly.” He whispered.

As he hung up, eyes drifting towards the papers on his desk, he realized the saving grace of clandestine meetings: no one expected you to show their truth.


	2. A Million Little Times

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Namjoon clues his hyungs into the mess he’s been a part of, and Jungkook grapples with truths he didn’t know existed. 
> 
> OR
> 
> “They’re convincing you that you’re the problem, Namjoon,” Yoongi stated.

Namjoon had been given a week to get the members on board before signing their contract. A week before dates for deployment were given. A week to see if they’d have a future after the bouts of military service were completed. He’d given himself two days to go over the changes before speaking with Yoongi and Seokjin, and four days to wrestle the Maknae line and Ho-Seok to agree to signing what remained of their dignities and rights away. He holed himself in his room, coffee and water his only liquids, and buried himself in the contracts. He googled far too many legal terms, and had countless texts asking if you understood what the contract meant. Namjoon was exhausted by day three and filled with dread. Today he would speak to his Hyungs and break the devastating news of their contracts.

“So, we have to go over our contracts,” Namjoon said. The three men were seated around the dining room table, the Maknae line gone to rehearse. He felt his palms getting clammy as he glanced at the clock, _how much time until they came home?_ “And for me to share a few things with you.”

“It’s bad, isn’t it?” Yoongi asked.

“I’m not sure that even covers it,” Namjoon replied. “Before we start going over the changes, I wanted to share how I’ve been feeling lately, and a few things I haven’t been able to share before.”

“Ah, problems with the lovely Y/N?” Seokjin asked, eyebrows raised.

“No, I just, I’ve been feeling really guilty, and like the reason we’re signing everything away is all my fault. Logically, it isn’t, but I’m filled with dread and hate and spite,” Namjoon said, trying his best to maintain eye contact with his hyungs.

“Oh, what does Bang say?” Yoongi asked.

“I’m not supposed to talk to you about these things,” Namjoon bowed his head.

“Why?”

“In case I inspire you to riot, or to not sign your contract,”

“What have they been saying to you?”

“They’ve continued their usual assault of blaming me for Jungkook’s youthful indiscretions, Jimin following suit and the general ‘disfunction’ of the Maknae line. They are constantly telling me ‘you’re responsible for Jungkook, you raised him. You need to make sure he’s falling in line’. They’ve been putting it all on me since the beginning.”

“But you’re not responsible,” Jin said, confused.

“We’re all responsible,” Yoongi said. “We’re the eldest, we raised him.”

“Bang and management think that it’s our collective failing, like we’ve destroyed what could’ve been if Jungkook had, I don’t know, turned out better,” Namjoon explained.

“That’s fucked up, it’s not our fault, Bang scouted him, Jungkook’s parents started showing him before you signed him, Joon,” Yoongi said.

“Bang thinks that since I was the reason why Jungkook went with BigHit, I’m liable for his actions,” Namjoon clarified.

“He’s his own person, can’t he make his own decisions?” Yoongi asked.

“Nature verses nurture, right? I’m nurture, Yoongi’s nature,” Jin said pointing between the two of them.

“And, I’ve just been feeling really guilty, like everything with Jungkook, him signing up, him signing his life away, is all my fault. It’s my fault you guys are losing your rights to everything you create… It’s all because of me, and I don’t know how to share that burden.”

“You’re not responsible, we all made a decision,” Jin said.

“We’re all responsible for our own actions,” Yoongi agreed.

“Yes, but I signed the first contract,” Namjoon said.

“Namjoon, we were kids.”

“I have these meetings with them, Bang and the lawyers, and all we do is discuss the problems with Jungkook, the ways he’s being disrespectful for ruining the brand. They give me a fucking list of problems and tell me to fix it, or give me tasks to do to aid in his development,” Namjoon looks at his hyungs, eyes tired.

“What?” They said in unison.

“They show up with slide shows and exhibit after exhibit of what he’s doing wrong, and then say I have to address it with him, I have to manage it. They teach me how to, what to say, what to do, and then they blame me when it fails,” Namjoon could feel the frustrated tears building.

“They’re convincing you that you’re the problem, Namjoon,” Yoongi stated.

“You haven’t ruined him,” Jin agreed.

“The tattoos, his hair, how he’s refusing to participate in videos or have a positive attitude in filming, he’s representing the brand negatively, he’s encouraging an uprising with the Maknae, the growing alcoholism that he can’t seem to get a grip on,” Namjoon listed.

“They have presentations?” Seokjin couldn’t wrap his head around it.

“Yes,” Namjoon reiterated.

“How often is this?” Yoongi was curious, was this normal? Did the Maknae have meetings about them? 

“At first, it was every two weeks, it’s slowed down has he’s gotten older, but on average about once a month,” Namjoon shrugged, the meetings had become so normal he’d forgotten that they weren’t.

“You’ve been having meetings about Jungkook, regularly, for a decade?” Yoongi was floored.

“I’ve had them,” Jin said, “Not that frequently, but a few times.”

“Why the fuck haven’t I- you know, I understand why,” Yoongi said. “So, you’ve been controlling Jungkook, for a decade?”

“I’m not controlling him, I’m guiding him,” Namjoon snapped, his tone harsher than intended.

“Do you know what his contract says?” Jin asked.

“All of your contracts say the same thing, more or less, with the exception of this year. This year, they are different,”

“Does he know?” Yoongi asked.

“About the meetings? No,” Namjoon and Jin shook their heads simultaneously.

“Mm,” Yoongi nodded.

“I’m sorry they’ve been putting this on you for years, why didn’t you come to us sooner?” Seokjin asked. “I’m the eldest, this is my responsibility too.”

“I’m not allowed to,” Namjoon whispered, ashamed he’d believed the unproven lies he’d been told.

“Allowed to?” Yoongi laughed, the shock echoing in the trilled notes.

“Yes, it’s a condition of my contract,” Namjoon mumbled.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Yoongi said, laugh cut short by sheer awe.

“No, it’s been in my contract for years, this is the first time it hasn’t been,” Namjoon took note of the absence, asking you if he’d read the pages right. They hadn’t included their airtight secrecy clause, not in the mark up, and they never forgot to put it in the mark up. 

“Namjoon, what if they find out?” Jin inquired.

“We’re supposed to be discussing the new contract, this is part of that discussion because I am at my breaking point.”

“You aren’t responsible for what Jungkook decides to do,” Yoongi said, “None of us are.”

“It’s my fault he’s here, that he’s in BTS, that he doesn’t have a life or a chance at a future. He’s working himself to the bone, he’s drinking all the time, he’s burning himself out before his career beats him to it.”

“How is that your fault?” Yoongi was growing tired of the narrative Namjoon was spinning.

“I am the reason he’s in BTS,” Namjoon repeated for what felt like the thousandth time.

“You’re never going to move past this, are you?” Yoongi asked.

“I’m trying to,” Namjoon felt defeated.

“You have to relinquish the guilt,” Seokjin said. “Namjoon, we’re all responsible for each other and ourselves.”

“And ARMY,” Yoongi added.

“I just,” Namjoon sighed, wiping tears from his cherub cheeks. “There are things you will never know, and I just needed to share part of the burden.”

“Share more often, we’re here, we’ll talk to Jungkookie about his behavior,” Seokjin said.

“The drinking is,” Namjoon shook his head, unable to find the words to start the conversation.

“When we’re gone, do you think he-” Jin started.

“He has to, he fucking has too,” Yoongi said.

They didn’t broach the topic of things they would never know. The strain it had put on Namjoon, on his voice as the words came out, indicated that Seokjin and Yoongi were treading in dangerous waters, but they didn’t know who or what to be afraid of.

“Should we talk about the contract?” Namjoon offered.

The hyungs nodded, and after he wiped his eyes, Namjoon grabbed his folder. He slid the copy of their new contract to them, tabs still in place, additional ones with notes he’d made sticking out, making it look like Seokjin in Subway Olympics. 

“Why did they make clarifications on who we can date?” Yoongi questioned.

“Since when did they know who preferred who?” Seokjin asked.

“That’s not the worst part,” Namjoon said. He waited with bated breath, for the moment he knew was coming.

Yards away, Jungkook stood silently by the entrance to the kitchen, back against the wall, breath held. He was intent on eavesdropping, hearing as much as he could from his hyungs to understand what they were talking about. It didn’t take long to figure out that he was the reason they were meeting, and that he had been the subject of innumerable meetings at headquarters that Namjoon had been forced to attend. Namjoon had made decisions on his behalf, he always did. Jungkook felt the rage that’d been building over the last decade start to take shape, and instead of doing the rational thing, he did what he wanted: he left to get drunk.

“This contract is brutal,” Seokjin said.

“I don’t think we can fix it,” Namjoon replied.

“Can we get outside council? A lawyer not tied to Big Hit?”

“No, I’ve looked into it, even with our finances being independent, there’s no way we can track that Bang won’t hear about it.”

“Can we get Jin’s dad’s lawyers to look at it?”

“We could try, but I’ve got the only copy of the new contract, it can’t be copied, I’m on strict orders to share it with you and return it to Bang,”

“My dad’s team will take a look, for sure,” Seokjin responded. “When do we have to sign?”

“Four days,” Namjoon informed them.

“Aye! So short!” Jin called.

“It took me two days to look through all of it,” Namjoon said.

“Did you talk to her about it?” Jin wondered. 

“Yeah, I did.” Namjoon responded.

“What’d she say?” He asked.

Namjoon preferred not to talk about his relationship, mostly because he felt guilty that he was allowed to have one while the bandmembers weren’t. His relationship had been a test, to see if it was possible for an Idol to be in a committed relationship. You told Namjoon the only reason they agreed to an addendum in his contract was because you lived stateside, hours away, and he couldn’t see you often. If management thought you’d be seen together, or be exposed in anyway, it would’ve put a kibosh on the entire relationship. As it stood, you were years into being in love, blissfully so, and no one else in BTS was reaping the benefits of your success.

“She told me to talk to you,” Namjoon wasn’t about to slip that he’d had your dad look at the papers.

“I can drive this to my dad’s office now, is there anything else we need to discuss?” Seokjin asked, setting his phone down.

“I don’t know how to present this to everyone else, and I don’t know what we do if we find lawyers who will represent us in our negotiations,” Namjoon said getting back to business.

“What can we negotiate in this contract?” Yoongi asked.

“I think we can come out swinging against the percentage for writers and producers, and we can try to negotiate a change in their ‘in perpetuity’ clause in terms of ownership,” Namjoon said, offering the alternatives he’d been working on.

“We could argue that we want ownership of everything we make going forward?” Yoongi suggested.

“What do we have to leverage?” Seokjin asked.

“That’s the thing, I don’t know,” Namjoon said.

“We can offer Jungkook up as a sacrifice,” Yoongi chuckled. “Maybe send Jimin too.”

“Maybe we discuss brand deals? Or give them a bigger cut of something?” Jin offered.

“Trade money for artistic license?” Yoongi clarified.

“Yes, they’re not going to budge on the relationships, but if we offer money, instead of their ten percent we do an additional 5% spilt amongst the seven of us,” Namjoon said, setting his pencil down and staring at the number in his notes.

“Would that be enough?” Jin asked.

“We could say max 10% split amongst us, which gives them a higher cut of profits,” Yoongi responded.

“We could argue that without us, they won’t be bringing in nearly the same amount, as a company they’d take a huge hit without us,” Jin suggested.

“Wouldn’t the economy also suffer? Or would they use our catalogue?” Yoongi asked.

“They’re going to want blood,” Namjoon whispered, ignoring the questions of his hyungs.

“Well Jungkook’s one drink away from spilling it all over a sidewalk, so,” Yoongi shrugged.

Across town, in a dive bar that Jungkook had never been to, he sat, drink in hand, glass nearly empty. He’d made a habit of frequenting dives far enough out of town that no one he knew would find him, but close enough that when he was obliterated, he didn’t have to wait impatiently in his chauffeured car to drive him an hour home. He was on his second double on the rocks, choosing to nurse this one instead of chugging it. He kept his notepad near him, pen waiting for him to pick up and start writing whatever drunken thoughts he had. Jungkook would rather swallow his pride before he ever read back what he wrote. He didn’t know if it was healthy or the path to ruin, but he wrote the same old swan song, every damn time. He convinced himself it would be helpful for his writing, or maybe if he ever went to talk to someone about his life, or wrote a memoir, he’d have these. He couldn’t admit that drunk ramblings of a crumbling K-Pop star were nothing more than that.

As he nursed his drink, he repeated the mantra he’d perfected: this time would be different. For the first time in months, he believed it. Today he had proof of his deepest fears. Namjoon was conspiring against him, saying it was in his best interest while steering him towards a full psychological breakdown. Namjoon had told the truth to his hyungs, but to Jungkook, he’d continue to lie, and lie and lie, a million times.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (on the heels of the Grammy nom... this feels kind of important but also not?)


	3. Show Their Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Hyung Line breaks down the reality of BTS’ situation, and the group plans what to do about “the problem with Jungkook”.

The six men shuffled into the dining room, prepared to discuss the new terms for their contract, their next seven-year sentence, one for each circle of hell Bang intended on making them go through.

“What happens if we win a Grammy, or an Oscar?” Namjoon asked the men, Yoongi and Seokjin already having a sense of where this was going.

“We win!” Jimin said.

“That would be so cool, Oscar winners, BTS,” Ho-Seok said laughing.

“No, I mean, contractually, do you know what happens?” Namjoon clarified.

“Yes, we get the award,” Taehyung said, looking at the other members to see if they were as confused as he was.

“Right, as a band, but Big Hit’s names are what will be on it, they’ll each get their own statue, and we won’t have anything, technically,” Namjoon stated, punctuating each word.

“Technically?” Ho-Seok asked.

“The people named on the physical award are the group, but the only people who get credit are the writers and producers… Hypothetically, I’ll have credit, or Yoongi and I will, but the rest of you wouldn’t,” Namjoon tried to lay it out in the clearest terms possible.

“We wouldn’t?” Jimin asked.

“Take Map of the Soul 7, if we had won a Grammy for it, none of us would’ve seen it,” Namjoon clarified.

“Why not?” Taehyung asked indignantly.

“We didn’t write or produce it, depending on the category we won in, we would never see it.” Yoongi chimed in.

“But we did the work!” Jimin yelled.

“That’s why _The 1975_ is credited on everything as a collective group, so that if they win anything, they all get the rewards… In our contract it states that we don’t own anything, and we don’t produce enough to get credit on anything, so we would see nothing unless we produced it, like we did with BE, but we didn’t win anything for BE.” Namjoon tried to gage their reactions, utter shock and anger dominating the room. 

“Who owns our music?” Ho-Seok asked.

“Bang and Big Hit outright own everything we’ve ever made, solo work or group,” Seokjin said. 

“What?” Jimin yelled.

“It specifically states that they do in our contracts,” Yoongi said.

“So, Bang owns it?” Ho-Seok repeated.

“My assumption is Big Hit, Bang, and their shareholders,” Namjoon nodded.

“What does that mean?” Taehyung asked.

“It means that if we break up, they can continue to earn revenue from our music, put out compilations, remix or remaster, let artists sample it, without our permission or consent.” Yoongi explained.

“What?” Jimin yelled again.

“Aye, stop yelling,” Yoongi snipped.

“We get nothing?” Taehyung repeated. 

“What does our contract say?” Jimin turned to Namjoon, eyes wide.

“We’re fucked,” Yoongi said.

“Part of what is in our new contracts is a clause that everything we create belongs to Big Hit, in perpetuity,” Namjoon said slowly.

“In what?” Jimin had never heard the phrase.

“Forever,” Yoongi said.

“What?” Jimin couldn’t keep it in. He was livid. “They own everything?”

“Yes, that’s the first problem,” Seokjin said.

“The first?” Taehyung said, still in shock.

“They’ve put in a new clause about who we can’t date,” Yoongi said, trying to take the pressure off of Namjoon.

“Oh?” Jimin asked, “Another rule about our nonexistent love lives?”

“It says that you can’t date anyone, regardless of sexual orientation, any fraternizing is strictly prohibited,” Seokjin said. The six of them exchanged glances, the spoken and unspoken resting between them.

“I thought after you and Y/N had made it, they were going to give us a try?” Taehyung asked.

“I don’t know,” Namjoon said defensively.

“What else?” Jimin asked.

“If a scandal breaks, we’re responsible for paying to have it scrubbed from the media,”

“That seems fair,” Taehyung shrugged.

“The percentage of what we write and produce in order to gain credit has gone up,”

“And so has the amount of V Live time we do,”

“Ah, that comes with a cash incentive,” Jin said smiling, a poor attempt at lightening the mood. No one laughed.

“We spoke to independent lawyers, and unfortunately, the contract is pretty airtight. They said we can counter with a few minor changes, offer a few different solutions, but other than that, if we sign it, we’re stuck.” Namjoon informed them. 

“Is there an option to not sign it?” Taehyung asked.

“Yes, but we can’t make music until after each of us has served,” Namjoon said. It was a condition buried deep within their contract, one that he’d never thought much of, never realizing that he’d eventually want to get out of Big Hit’s suffocating embrace.

“So, we sign it, or we find other careers for the next decade?” Ho-Seok probed.

“Yes,” Seokjin, Yoongi and Namjoon replied, glancing at each other at the rare moment of harmony.

“The other issue we need to discuss, is Jungkook,” Seokjin said, willingly changing the subject.

“Ah, the problem with Jungkook, rearing its ugly head once again,” Yoongi said bitterly. 

“I don’t know what to do,” Jimin said.

“He’s in his own head,” Taehyung said, “I don’t know how to reach him.”

“Why isn’t he here?” Ho-Seok asked.

“I don’t know,” Yoongi whispered.

“What does Bang say we do?” Ho-Seok queried.

“Well, that’s part of the problem,” Yoongi muttered.

“He wants me, the Hyung Line and me, to _fix it_ ,” Namjoon offered.

The Maknae Line was known for often being confused, for obeying their hyungs and frequently being lost in the shuffle. Their discernable qualities were often boiled down to superficial labels, ignoring their raw talent and honed gifts. Together they were a strong unit of lovable goofballs, with sex appeal in spades. But Jimin’s confusion fed Taehyung’s, which made Ho-Seok question himself, and encouraged Jungkook to go with the flow instead of employing his own thought process. Together, they bickered and loved harder than anyone could imagine. They were a unit, dysfunctional, but they were the most integral parts of BTS.

Being a unit meant that Taehyung and Jimin spent the most time with Jungkook and had seen his drinking up close. It had been a slow progression, his excitement about turning the legal age in Korea, coupled with being of age in the states and essentially, the entire world, manifested in a habit he couldn’t kick. How could he? He was now free to have a beer with his hyungs after a show or at dinner, and he loved it. He loved being able to experience this with them, to share when they went out, to kick back at home. Jungkook developed his own tastes, what type of red wine he liked, what kind of hard liquor he wanted to nurse, if he liked it on the rocks or not… He could pass it off as trying to understand alcohol and all its complexities, a mixologist in the making, a connoisseur of spirits.

The six members couldn’t pinpoint exactly when his drinking started becoming a problem, their best guess was sometime after turning 22. It was then that they began to see the shift from Jungkook the baby, to Jungkook the man. He started drinking more, more frequently, larger quantities, different hours of the day … Everything in abundance.

The consummate professional, he never let it interfere with work, and would sweat out the hangover at the gym before throwing down in a performance. In the beginning, he was sneakier, hiding it from the members with ease. As he got older, as it got worse, his ability to hide bottles clanging or shots taken from them became more and more challenging. They didn’t know how long the addiction had been raging, which concerned them the longer it went on.

They knew it was bad when Jungkook started lying to them and sneaking around in public. No longer open and brazen with his penchant for well-aged liquors, opting instead for whatever he could pay with in cash, in a dive bar outside the city. He didn’t savor and sip, he chugged and got wasted. There were moments when they saw the old Jungkook, the one just starting out, savoring every drop knowing it was sacred. It didn’t happen often.

“Does he need to go to rehab?” Taehyung whispered, asking the question everyone had been too scared to ask.

“When we go to military service, it’ll be a slow roll out. Jin-hyung and Yoongi-hyung will go first, followed by the 94s, which gives us a little time to figure out what to do… But when we go,” Namjoon motioned to Ho-Seok, “You will be alone, the Maknae Line, until Jin and Yoongi are ready to return, and you will have to handle this.”

“Send him to rehab,” Yoongi said, face blank.

“He won’t go,” Jimin said.

“So, he kills himself? Another K-Pop star slain at their own hand?” Yoongi asked bitterly.

“Or he leaves the group,” Jin said.

“He can’t, not if he’s signed his contract,” Jimin said, looking to Namjoon to assure his assumption was correct.

“Can we force him?” Taehyung asked.

“No,” Jin replied.

“Why is he drinking anyway?” Ho-Seok asked. “Is that a dumb question?”

“I don’t know,” Jin said.

“And yes, it’s a dumb question,” Yoongi answered.

“I,” Namjoon sighed. “I’ve been having meetings with management, and they think he wasn’t raised well enough, that his youthful rebellions are not growing pains, but general disdain for the values of Big Hit.”

“That seems like a far stretch?” Taehyung said.

“I think he’s angry that he signed his life away, and is looking at a bleak future,” Yoongi said.

“Youthful rebellions? More than his tattoos?” Ho-Seok asked.

“Scandals that have been reported but not confirmed,” Namjoon was filling in the blanks, wasn’t that what he’d always been doing?

“Drinking,” Jimin said.

“The general lack of enthusiasm for filming anything,” Namjoon added.

“Don’t you think it’s weird that we’re grown men, playing games for shit we can already buy?” Jimin asked.

“Y/N asked me that a few weeks ago, and yeah, it’s fucking weird,” Namjoon said.

“They bribe us so they can film content to keep ARMY engaged,” Yoongi said.

“Jungkook hates it,” Ho-Seok replied.

“The fact that anyone hates it more than me is implausible,” Yoongi muttered.

“All of these things, when looked at under a microscope, paint the picture that Jungkook is,” Namjoon started.

“Tarnishing the good name of Big Hit?” Jimin filled in.

“Correct,” Jin said.

“Who’s supposed to stop him?” Taehyung asked.

“We are,” Jin said, stepping in for Namjoon. “Namjoonie’s carried the weight of this for a decade, and it’s time we all start pitching in,”

“Isn’t Jungkook supposed to carry his own load?” Taehyung wondered.

“How’s he doing with that?” Yoongi snipped.

“Point taken,” Taehyung bowed his head.

“What do we do?” Jimin asked, bringing everyone back on track.

“Intervention?” Jin offered.

“Drop him off at therapy?” Taehyung posed.

“He’s only going to get better if he wants to, when he’s hit rock bottom,” Yoongi informed them.

“Can we nudge him along?” Jimin asked, trying to find the fastest route to a positive change.

“Purposefully make him think he’s fucked up, scare him into getting sober?” Yoongi questioned.

“That’s diabolical,” Taehyung said.

“Would it work?” Yoongi asked.

“No, we can’t, he already hates-

“He doesn’t hate you, hyung,” Taehyung said.

“He blames me, for everything. His loss of innocence, for growing up so fast, his lack of identity and understanding of who he is… That he can’t love anyone, that everyone views him as the sexy one but doesn’t see any other side of him, for how overbearing management is… Every shortcoming is my fault,” Namjoon was trying not to cry, not again. No more tears over Jungkook.

The Maknae line sat staring.

“Why isn’t he mad at Bang? It’s more his fault than yours,” Jimin queried.

“I’m the one he saw every day, who made sure he did his work, I got him to sign,” Namjoon answered.

“You’re the one that’s secretly been parenting him for a decade,” Jin said. “I was clearly trying to raise him, but you? You did it in secret.”

“In secret?” Taehyung asked.

“I was, instructed, taught, guided, on what to do to help raise Jungkook,” Namjoon said.

“Into what?” Taehyung was still confused.

“Into a man, into a better musician, into the Golden Maknae,”

“Were you monitoring his food or exercise?” Jimin asked.

“No, not really, the trainers did that… I’ve mostly been encouraging good behaviors that would become habits,” Namjoon replied.

“How come you never addressed the lisp?” Yoongi wondered, always the fan of bringing in random tidbits.

“There’s not much you can do about the lisp, and it doesn’t come out when he sings.” Ho-Seok answered, looking at Yoongi. “It’s endearing.”

“Not to stray off topic, but what do we do? Does he know?” Jimin continued to bring them back on track.

“Know?” Ho-Seok asked.

“About your clandestine meetings and ‘guidance’ which sounds more like a cult leader and less like a bandmate,” Jimin pressed.

“He doesn’t, as far as I know, he doesn’t know about any of it,”

“How’d you do it?” Taehyung asked, voice hushed in the chaos.

Namjoon inhaled slowly before looking at his chosen family.

“Little things like taking him to the gym or saying positives about whatever health juice I was drinking, I wanted him to imitate my behaviors, to copy them until it became rote. Until he didn’t know where the idea came from. It got more, elaborate as he got older… leaving articles behind, or quoting something I knew he’d ask about… dropping breadcrumbs for him to pick up.”

Namjoon was embarrassed, ashamed by the way he’d conducted himself. He didn’t tell them about the times Bang had asked him to put supplements in JK’s water, or to swap out a pair of pants for ones slightly smaller to make the Golden Maknae feel insecure and fat, forcing him to work out relentlessly. He didn’t bring up the phrases he’d repeated, the little words of affirmation that he’d sprinkled into daily conversation, encouraging Jungkook to become obsessive in his habits. Namjoon could never admit to the hell Bang had put him through during Jungkook’s first few years, the drive he’d instilled in Namjoon to push Jungkook to his breaking point. He’d only let up when JK turned 21, when Bang felt like the transformation was complete.

Namjoon would never admit he blackmailed, dosed, and destroyed little parts of Jungkook so Bang could fill them with who he wanted him to be. Jungkook was right to hate him, the parking lot meetings and notebooks he’d filled with his covert plans, in the wrong hands, would destroy BTS and Big Hit. No one would be safe.

The men dispersed, some to their apartments, others to the kitchen, and Namjoon to the living room to start a movie. They’d have to talk to Jungkook in the morning. They’d have to write their counter offers for Bang and the Big Hit lawyers. They’d have to try and find a solution so that after a decade of intermittent service, something of their time in BTS remained, and their futures could continue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Got too long... Part 4 will be shorter)


	4. Mercurial High

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jungkook comes home swinging, literally, to take out his anger on Namjoon and anyone who crosses his path.

Jungkook had come home swinging, already shots deep by eight o’clock, he was pissed and lost and dangerously sad. The pain of their latest contract signing, at which he’d offered to use blood if it would please Bang, had left him feeling empty. He always trusted Namjoon, Yoongi and Jin. He always believed they had his best interest at heart, that their decisions reflected their collective protectiveness over him.

But he was wrong.

Namjoon had been having meetings behind his back, meetings about his future, about his behavior, and hadn’t ever told Jungkook. He’d been plotting career moves, giving up information, and signing away Jungkook’s existence. He was actively influencing him to make certain decisions, to dress certain ways, to exercise until he puked, for a decade. Everything in Jungkook’s life, including himself, belonged to Big Hit, and it was Namjoon’s fault.

Jungkook stumbled into the dorms, finding you and Namjoon sitting on the couch, TV playing softly as the hyungs gazed at the screen. Jungkook couldn’t tell if you were paying attention, and he didn’t care.

“Namjoon,” His tone was harsh, alerting anyone in the vicinity that Jungkook was home, and Jungkook was pissed.

“Ah, Jungkookie you’ve been drinking again?” Namjoon asked, concern in his eyes. You glanced at the maknae, his hair pulled into a ponytail, black jeans clinging to his skin. In the forty-eight hours you’d been in Korea, you hadn’t seen Jungkook once. Having only interacted with him a few times, and having only heard about him from Namjoon, you were unsure how his disheveled appearance stacked against his usual, off camera demeanor.

“I have to, how else can I handle the bullshit you’ve put me through?” Jungkook yelled.

“What?” Namjoon whispered, muscles tense.

“You’ve been lying to me for a decade!”

“I haven’t been-

“You’ve been having secret meetings at Big Hit, all about me,” Jungkook was slobbering drunk, and Namjoon knew he’d only remember bits of this in the morning.

“I can explain,”

“Explain how you’ve been making decisions that have been deemed best for me? Controlled me until I lost all senses and become some fucking soulless robot? Explain that to me!”

“Jungkook, I, I was obligated to,” Namjoon tried to explain.

“Obligated? To destroy me?” Jungkook’s voice was rising again.

“Bang had a plan, I, I was a pawn in it too. He made me out to be a fool,” Namjoon’s voice was cracking. He stood slowly, moving towards Jungkook. You didn’t know if you should run or stay.

“He made you the fool? Look at the fucking fool you’ve made me, Joon! I don’t know who I am! I’m fucking, drunk every day, working out until I pass out, on diet after diet. I’m fucking killing myself so what, you can call me kid and toss off decisions like they haven’t ruined me?” Jungkook yelled.

Jungkook didn’t yell. He didn’t get angry at anyone except himself. The alcohol had loosened him, his inhibitions gone, and he could give two fucks about decorum. Let the entire complex know that the Golden Maknae had been a psychotic science experiment gone horribly right.

“You’re not a kid!” Namjoon agreed.

“You’re a baby,” Yoongi added as he walked through the fight to get a glass of water.

“Don’t call me that,” Jungkook growled, glare directed at Yoongi.

“Why are you so mad at him?” Yoongi questioned, the fire in his eyes daring Jungkook to stand up to him.

“He’s the reason my life is-”

“Wonderful? Full of love, and money and respect? What about ARMY? Or is the bottle trying to convince you otherwise?” Yoongi listed the positives of their predicament, a behavior Namjoon hadn’t done in years.

“I’m wasting away so you can fucking make beats that don’t even belong to you,” Jungkook rolled his eyes.

“And what are you doing Jungkook? Drinking yourself to an early grave so we can bury you before we turn thirty? Fuck you and your selfishness,” Yoongi snarled.

“Fuck you, Yoongi. You have a life; you know who you are! You have something, when all this is over you have fucking everything. And fucking Namjoon has Y/N!” Jungkook didn’t bother looking at you, and at the mention of your name Namjoon moved in front of you, shielding you from the display of reckless drunkenness. 

“Everything? Jungkook, you’re so fucking dense. I was starving when Bang found me. I had no food; I had no home. Yeah, he’s a fucking dictator and he does things that make me want to slit his throat. But at the end of the day, I have place to sleep and food to eat and I get to make a living doing what I love, with people I care about. Stop being a dick and focusing on you. It’s not all about you, you have bandmates, _brothers_ to think about. Grow the fuck up, or drink yourself to death, I don’t fucking care either way.” Yoongi turned, eyes still dark. “Y/N, come with me,” He demanded.

You stood, scurrying around Jungkook to follow Yoongi into his room.

“Shame you’re seeing him like this,” Yoongi muttered as he opened the door. “He isn’t always, you know,”

“Blackout drunk?” You filled in.

“Yeah,”

“I know… I know Joon isn’t blameless in all of this,” You said, watching Yoongi sit at his desk. “I know he’s done things; I know he hasn’t told you, but Bang and he have some secret language that only they speak… It’s really fucking terrifying.”

“He won’t talk about it,” Yoongi sipped on his water.

“I don’t know if you’d look at him the same way if he did.” You whispered, unwilling to spill your partner’s darkest secrets.

“You still love him?” Yoongi smirked.

“I, yeah, I do,” You blushed.

“So, wouldn’t I?” Yoongi asked.

“Min Yoongi, ever the philosopher,” You smiled lightly.

In the living room, Jungkook watched you walk away, and swallowed hard. His anger dissipating into sobs as he fell to the ground, Namjoon quick to wrap his arms around him.

“I’ve got you; I’ve got you,” Namjoon whispered.

“I don’t fucking want you,” Jungkook pushed him off and stood slowly, the dorms starting to spin as he struggled to find his balance.

“Jungkook, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I-

Jungkook didn’t think. He didn’t rationalize. He just swung, knuckles connecting with Namjoon’s jaw in an audible punch. He regretted it instantly and regretted it more when Namjoon didn’t punch back.

“You’re just going to take it? You’re just going to let me beat the shit out of you?” Jungkook yelled in his face. “Why Joon? To feel high and mighty? To show superiority? To prove that you got the better end of this deal?” Jungkook lunged again, this time Namjoon blocked him, fist connecting with JK’s cheekbone.

Yoongi could hear the fight, the fists hitting, knees connecting, an all-out brawl between leader and the golden boy. He stared at you, biting his lip.

“Should we?” You asked, panic rising in you.

“Let me, you stay here,” Yoongi stood and exited the room quickly.

Laying on his bed, you tried to rid yourself of the heinous thoughts you were having. Dating an Idol wasn’t what you pictured, it wasn’t what you planned, none of it made sense, and yet you understood so deeply the pain and sacrifice Namjoon went through. Listening to him get beat up was akin to watching 127 hours, Jungkook sawing off Namjoon bit by bit as he tried to free himself from the possession Bang had put over him.

“Fuck you, Joon,” Jungkook took a step back, surveying the damage he’d done to Namjoon. Bruises turning into black eyes, split lip, blood from his nose running down his shirt.

“I’m sorry, Jungkook,” Namjoon responded. The tears he’d held succumbing to the pain of a physical altercation.

“Save it, Joon,” Jungkook spit, his salty tears and snot mixing with his blood as it hit the floor in front of Namjoon’s feet. Namjoon saw the liquids pool on the floor and felt them ricocheting like a stray bullet, wounding him immediately.

“Jungkook, you know that I would ruin myself, over and over again, for you” Namjoon said, tears falling in rapid succession.

“So, fall on your sword, Joon,” Jungkook said, body rigid as he faced away from his hyung. He moved towards his room, never looking back at the mess he’d made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I could keep writing this for a while ... let me know your thoughts)


	5. You Made Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Namjoon squares off against Big Hit. There can only be one victor, and if Namjoon has any say, it won’t be Bang or Sejin.

The five members stare at one another, eyes drifting as they catch reflections in the practice room mirrors. Their sweats adorn their bodies, different patterns, materials, weights hang off their frames as they sit, feet toward the center. It’s been weighing on their minds since Yoongi called Jin, who in turn told the rest of the group. They’d planned a time to meet, just the five of them, to discuss what happened, and what should happen next. Rather, what they could do to bide the time before management came down on them. Neither of them had endured a fight like this. Sure, they’d gotten into disagreements with one another, but a full-fledged brawl, with blood spilled over a decade’s long betrayal. They could barely fathom it.

“Someone has to tell management,” Jimin mutters.

“Yoongi was home when it happened,” Taehyung suggests.

“It can’t just be Yoongi, it effects all of us,” Seokjin says.

“You two are the eldest, can’t you?” Jimin looks at Seokjin and Yoongi, the latter having not uttered a word the entire time they’ve sat looking at each other.

“It’s our band, our future if they don’t their shit together,” Yoongi says, eyes finally meeting his brothers.

“How did it start? Why were they fighting?” Taehyung inquires.

“Too many reasons,” Yoongi responds.

“Jungkook found out about Namjoon playing God with Kook’s life, in a way Namjoon hadn’t intended, and he went for blood, literally,” Seokjin mutters.

“How?” Ho-Seok wonders.

“We were having a conversation about contracts, signing them, and going over the new proclivities. Namjoon was telling us about them, and Jungkook came home, heard it all, and laid in wait for Joon,” Yoongi informs them.

“Waiting?” Taehyung asks.

“Not literally, he pounced on Namjoon the second he could,” Yoongi corrects himself.

“The moment he was drunk enough,” Jimin scoffs.

“That is also true,” Yoongi agrees. Having been the only one home when the incident happened, besides Namjoon’s girlfriend, he had become the one in charge of passing on the story, one hopefully no one would hear about outside of the seven of them, Bang, Sejin and you.

“He just came home and hit Joonie?” Taehyung asks, mind still trying to understand what had happened.

“They had words, and I may have played a small role in it,” Yoongi says, shoulders shrugging.

“What did you say?” Seokjin demands, all humor gone from his eyes.

“Say? Didn’t he do something?” Jimin asks.

“It’s Yoongi, his words cut deeper than any knife,” Ho-Seok says.

“I said somethings to Kook, a few, nasty things.”

“You made it worse?” Jin demands.

“He was going off on Joonie about how he ruined his life, he was acting like a baby, so I called him out,” Yoongi shrugs, unwilling to apologize.

“You antagonized him,” Seokjin corrects.

“He had tunnel vision; he was mad at Joon when he should be mad at management. I wanted to deflect some of that anger away from Joon, it was clear Jungkook was going to pound him into a bloody pulp. JK has everything and he was beginning to lose sight of it,” Yoongi’s voice is curt, biting as he explains his decision.

“He has a right to,” Taehyung says, “He was a child when we started, we all were,”

“None of us were as young as him, he’s endured the most,” Hobi responds.

“Some of the things Namjoon did, though, are just horrific,” Yoongi says, eyes blinking quickly. 

“We’ve all gone through some horrible things at the hands of management,” Jimin says, and they glance at him, all knowing what pains he went through.

“This feels like a Run episode gone wrong,” Ho-Seok says. “A Mafia game where we’re all casualties.”

“But none of us are safe from management,” Yoongi adds.

“Who’s going to tell management?” Taehyung repeats.

“It should be Jin and Yoongi-hyung, they’re the elders,” Ho-Seok determines, knowing full well a few months and it would’ve been him.

“We’ll schedule a meeting,” Yoongi agrees.

“As soon as possible, we can’t get anything done until those two agree to be in the same place,” Ho-Seok says.

“What do you think will happen?” Taehyung wonders. The members refuse to meet one another’s eye as they sit with the weight of what Namjoon and Jungkook have done.

~~~~~~~

Jungkook and Namjoon can see the steam pouring out of Bang’s ears, doubled by that of his team, fuming at the mouth, ready to pounce. Namjoon sits across from him, with Jungkook to his right. Neither man had looked at the other or been in the same space in the five days that passed after their fight. They rehearsed in separate time slots, they recorded independently, and spent time in living quarters as far away from one another as they could. Jungkook assumed this would go on until the reckoning, Namjoon knew it couldn’t.

The reckoning, either brought upon them by Bang and Sejin, or by the other members, was sure to result in swift punishment. The members had made their frustration known, going so far as to avoid both men until they figured out their problems, or resigned to the fact that they had to work together, no matter what, and acting like adults was the easiest option. But no one could understand the stubbornness of two Virgos, both ready to accept the fault and none of the blame. Not wanting to pick sides, the five men became cool, barely cordial in the days after. At first it was a trickle, Jimin, Ho-Seok and Taehyung not knowing the extent of the brawl. Then they saw Namjoon, and the maknae became furious with both men. Jungkook for beating up their leader, and Namjoon for taking it lying down. He had the power; couldn’t he have stopped it?

Sitting in the conference room, Jungkook didn’t know what else Bang could do to him. He already owned his life, every piece of art he’d made, every day for the past decade belonged to him, and Jungkook was broken because of it.

“We’re here today to discuss the incident between the two of you,” Sejin states, eyes boring holes in their skulls.

“It wasn’t an incident, it was an outright brawl,” Bang corrects, eyes solely focused on Namjoon. “Namjoon, care to explain?”

“No sir,” Namjoon shakes his head gently, eyes still down. If he fought Bang and Sejin, he could lose you. If he said something out of character or out of line, he could lose what autonomy he had within BTS and Big Hit. No more producer RM, lyricist RM… just, Namjoon.

“Jungkook, what caused this major act of defiance?” Bang wants to know.

“I learned, from Namjoon, that he had been controlling aspects my life for the last few years, and that he was in cahoots with you, about what those things were. He talked about how he had played into my insecurities, how a lot of my tendencies came from him leaning into my ticks. That he was required to by his contract, that he didn’t want to, but had done far worse things than he was willing to admit to,” Jungkook recites, having practiced numerous times in his head, in the shower, any moment he had free.

“How could you be so careless, Namjoon?” Bang snaps, ice in his tone.

“I didn’t know, when was this?” Namjoon looks up for the first time, glancing at Jungkook, whose gaze meets his. It’s cold and jagged, frozen in a perpetual moment of anguish.

“When you, Yoongi-hyung and Jin-hyung were discussing the contract,” Jungkook’s tone is level, honest, even.

“You were home?” Namjoon whispers.

“I came in, heard you and left,” Jungkook informs him.

“To get drunk no doubt,” Bang quips.

His words ring like fire in Namjoon’s ears and burn Jungkook equally as he glances at Bang.

“The dive bars you frequent, out of town enough, but not too far that we haven’t heard talk of them,” Bang tells him, “You have nearly destroyed this group and company too many damn times, Jungkook.”

“You have put your brother’s careers on the line, as well as the success of every other group at Big Hit,” Sejin scolds. “What happens when other Idols hear of your behavior?”

“What will they do when they get word that BTS’ star, the sun everyone rotates around, has become an alcoholic with a tendency for violence?” Bang ponders.

“If the media hears about this? You’re lucky you snuck into this room under the cover of masks and hats, otherwise the world would see the damage you did to Namjoon,” Sejin reproaches.

“You have created a disgusting, destructive habit and now we have to decide what to do with you,” Bang is livid, far past the point of any level of anger Namjoon has ever seen.

“Just fire me,” Jungkook says, looking the elders in the eye, “Fire me. I’m not enough for you, am I? No matter how much I work, how hard I push my body, my voice, it is never enough for you. I’d bleed for you, you know I would, I have! Instead, you’ve manipulated me like I’m some robot, the Golden Maknae incapable of meeting your demands because you’ve worked me to the bone. I have nothing, I am nothing, and it’s because of the three of you. So, fire me,” Jungkook lays it all on the table.

He has nothing to lose, and nothing to gain.

“What would BTS be without you?” Sejin asks.

“Would they survive?” Bang asks, “He is the crux of the whole thing, the both of them, how could you let this happen?”

“This is how it happened!” Jungkook yells, standing swiftly, knocking the table against his thighs. “You! You’re why this happened!”

“How much does he know?” Bang looks at Namjoon, eyes small. 

“Not everything,”

“Jungkook, sit down,” Sejin tells him. He maknae does, running a bruised hand through his hair.

“Yes, we have done things, encouraged you, pushed you towards certain things in order to support your development. Yes, Namjoon was the leader of this, at our request,” Bang starts.

“It was a demand,” Namjoon corrects.

“Fine, a demand. You have grown into everything we could’ve hoped for, everything the band needs, what Big Hit needs,” Bang pauses to ensure Jungkook is watching him, “You are the Golden Maknae because we groomed your initial talent, we nurtured it. Sure, we caused some strife-

“You measured his food for two years. You gave me extra pay every time I convinced him to work out for an extra hour, and you gave Jungkook extra money for extra gym time without his consent. You gave me mantras to repeat around him, ones that stuck in his brain like porcupine needles. You had me switch out his clothes for the same outfit in a smaller size to create this illusion that he wasn’t small enough. You lied to him for a decade, you dosed his drinks you-

“You what?” Jungkook yells, head snapping up.

“They dosed your drinks, micro doses of different performance enhancing drugs,” Namjoon’s eyes are black, burning down everything in his sight. He sees it in front of him, _his pawn advancing._

“What?”

“For, what, a year and a half? Drugs that were easily digestible, didn’t need needles when they could slip it into your coffee,” Namjoon’s eyes are squarely on Bang’s. This is not the reckoning they had in mind. “They gave you food poisoning, when you were eating too much of certain foods. They sent you to the states at the beginning to train, yes, but they told your trainers to demean you so that when you came home, they could build you back up. Every tick, every habit, they’ve controlled.”

“Kim Namjoon,” Bang’s voice is a warning shot, _black queen’s pawn moves two_ , a counter movement.

“I am done being your mule. I am done damaging him, I am fucking sick of it. You wanted to ruin him, and you’ve ruined me too. If you want to play games, fine, but do it without me.” Namjoon’s trying to maintain his composure. Bang and Sejin were unaware that Namjoon had crafted his own strategy, his own method to get Jungkook and himself the help they need. His plan, crafted with his love in the wake of the beat down, has to take hold. Bang has to move precisely where he wants him to go in order for the opening to work. Namjoon has to give up everything to gain anything.

“It’s in your contract.” Bang snaps, rage hot throughout him.

Namjoon snarls, _queen sides bishop pawn forward two squares._

“We will take away your dating privilege.” Sejin adds.

“I will date her anyway, hell, I’ll marry her tomorrow. I am done being a part of this,” Namjoon declares.

“You have seven more years of it, Namjoon,” Sejin says, contracts laying flat on the table.

“Then come up with a plan B,” Namjoon responds, eyes still on them.

Namjoon recognizes the look in their eyes: defeat. It’s the look he gave Jungkook as he spit at him, the wanton gaze that signifies whatever end game they had in mind will no longer work. Namjoon is no longer playing on their side, making moves to support their goal, abandoning his brothers for more hurt than growth, destroying his family like black mold, slowly seeping into every aspect of their lives, killing them. He no longer watches their moves and shifts to accommodate. No, no, the board’s been wiped clean, the pieces reset, and Namjoon is on the attack. His pieces perfectly in place, Namjoon is advancing, whether or not Bang realizes, his upper hand is gone. This is no longer a negotiation, a reckoning, but a decree. This, this is the queen’s gambit. And Namjoon will be the victor.


	6. Beautiful Rooms Pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Namjoon arrives in LA to begin the work he promised he would do.

Namjoon lays in his plane-bed, headphones blasting D-2, _Daechwita_ , on a blind loop. The sky is dark, 30,000+ feet in the air, he knows he should be sleeping, resting at the bare minimum. But he can’t, melatonin not kicking in just yet, and his mind is too wired, filled with concerns.

Over a two months ago, after the reckoning, Namjoon put his plans into action. You can’t take managements King, and Queen, and bishops and rooks, without having a plan for total annihilation. Namjoon decided, though without much discussion with Jungkook, what they both needed. What would be the best for both of them, and the rest of Bangtan, was guarantees in their contracts that Bang and Co wouldn’t manipulate them anymore. No more calorie counting, no more extra pay for working out more, no more using Namjoon as a weapon against Jungkook or the others. To do this, Namjoon brought in other lawyers who negotiated with Bang’s team, and in the end the seven men amended their contracts. Gone were the clauses about who they could date, gone was the clause that they couldn’t date, period, gone was Run BTS and the trickery management went through to get the men to perform. They would have ownership of their work going forward, and ownership of their work all the way back to the first _Love Yourself_ album.

Taehyung, Jimin, Hoseok, Yoongi and Jin were shocked when their contracts were handed back, careful to read through the changes. They’d been floored, wondering how Namjoon and Jungkook’s brawl could’ve resulted in this swift change in their deals. Namjoon had put it simply: change or we sue. Big Hit knew that if BTS sued them, they’d take the house, the plastic plants in the lobby, the stock options and the futures of every person on the label. They had the option to lose everything, or to surrender, tails between their legs, to the gods that are BTS.

Namjoon knew that if this had happened three months prior, even two years, he wouldn’t have had the weight needed to push the deal through. But, in their decade plus at Big Hit, their level of power and influence, the fact that they had never signed NDA’s coupled with Namjoon’s intricate diaries, Namjoon recognized he had the power to take _everything_. Bang and Sejin were scared. They knew that they had a limited amount of time before BTS revolted, and if they were revolting with evidence, there was no possible solution that ended in Big Hit’s favor.

With their new contracts came one request from Bang, Sejin and the five other members of Bangtan, one request that was truly a demand: fix Jungkook and Namjoon.

Fixing Jungkook meant fixing Namjoon’s relationship to the maknae, which is how he finds himself flying across the globe to LA. Getting Jungkook help, away from prying eyes, was his idea. He and his love had brainstormed what would help Jungkook get through this, and this was the solution:

  * Jungkook would spend 3-6 months in LA undergoing rigorous outpatient therapy
  * Jungkook would be booked for exhaustion, body dysmorphia, alcoholism, and a host of other issues Namjoon could’ve spent his entire flight listing
  * Jungkook would rehearse in LA and fly back for specific stages but would otherwise record and work in LA while he went to therapy five days a week
  * Detox would come first, followed by a month of inpatient treatment
  * Then, Jungkook would be settled in his outpatient apartment, with a few Big Hit bodyguards around 24/7
  * Jungkook would have a sponsor in Korea and in the states, whom he reported to,
  * Jungkook is required to attend AA meetings twice a week for the first three months
  * Namjoon, would attend therapy twice a week in Korea,
  * Namjoon would fly to LA to spend a month going through treatment with Jungkook



To this, they signed their names, to the promise of something better, to the hope they would find common ground. Jungkook was packed and on a plane 48 hours later. The two men had some contact through music and through their group chat, but otherwise, Jungkook kept to himself. He loved LA, the sun, the ability to exercise outside every day of the week, the blue skies… There was a level of health that came with LA, and of course the seedy underbelly of diet culture, but for Jungkook, it was a welcome change. Everyone breathed in LA, they weren’t rushing to meet deadlines or get anywhere on time, they didn’t have the next five years planned on a detailed spreadsheet. LA was relaxed, it was breezy, and with its endless supply of green juice, it was the exact place Jungkook needed to be.

He diligently went to therapy, working exclusively with Dr. Aarons on the years of abuse he’d endured. Wrapping his mind around what had happened to him, not as love, not as building his character or strengthening his work ethic, but as a traumatic state of emotional abuse, was harder to swallow than two horse tranquilizers without water. Dr. Aarons gave him books and pamphlets on trauma and emotional abuse, which in his off hours, he read. His first month in treatment was spent in therapy sessions, a weekly _Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing (EMDR)_ session, monitored exercise to help reteach him how to use his body, and reading to discuss. Some days felt like high school, or training days, when he was required to both train for debut and be a high school student. He hated it, hated studying, hated school, but to get better he had to do the work. All he could hope was at the end of this he’d feel better, maybe he'd be better too. 

Dr. Aaron’s agreed, for the two men to make progress, to find common ground again, they needed to work through their Kilimanjaro sized problems.

A month into treatment, Jungkook was ready and willing to begin working on repairing his most treasured relationship.

“Namjoon, thank you for joining us here,” Dr. Aarons says, eyes darting between Jungkook, who was freshly showered and bouncing his leg up and down, and Namjoon, stoic, perched on the edge of his chair. Dr. Aarons can tell that Namjoon is less prepared than Jungkook, which is why she is in full control of this session.

“It’s, yeah, glad to be here,” Namjoon says, head bowing.

“I am first generation and am fluent in both English and Korean. My maiden name is Park,” Dr. Aarons smiles, letting Namjoon into her stratification of both cultures. “We can flow from English to Korean at any point.”

“Thank you,” Namjoon bows again.

“This first session is just to create a welcoming and safe space for Jungkook to see you again. Soon he will be off, and you and I will have a bit of time to talk. I have been in communication with your therapist back in Seoul, and he has given me his thoughts as well as points that we can continue to work on as a triad. Jungkook, is there something you wanted to say to Namjoon before you go?”

Jungkook looks at his brother, irises rising to meet his sun-twin. Namjoon’s eyes are tired, heavy, his lids weighty as he continues to battle some jetlag. Jungkook looks fucking fantastic, the sun and balanced eating working wonders on him.

“Thank you, hyung, for being here, and thank you for being willing to work on this with me. I still hold love for you in my heart, though I don’t have to. We’ve both fucked up. I am sorry for punching you, well, beating you up, and I hope you can forgive me, if not today, at some point. And again, thank you, hyung, for fighting for me,” Jungkook’s voice breaks as he utters his last words, eyes dropping to his hands.

“Jungkook, you did great,” Dr. Aarons reassures.

“Thank you, Jungkookie, for being, forgiving, for still wanting to speak to me, to work with me, it,” Namjoon clears his throat, that familiar lump forming. “I know I let you down. I will always be sorry,”

“I know, me too,”

“Jungkook, thank you for being here today. I will see you tomorrow for our first session as a group.” Dr. Aaron’s gave the go-ahead for Jungkook to leave, and he did swiftly, giving Namjoon the chance to confide in Dr. Aarons.

“Thank you, for doing this,” Namjoon spoke.

“This was your idea, correct? The therapy, detox, all of it?”

“Yes,” Namjoon feels the blood rush to his cheeks.

“From what I understand, you’re kind of a genius, right?”

“In music, I suppose,”

Reaching for her notepad, Dr. Aarons’ glances down. “Mm, I spoke with Dr. Cho,”

“Yes?”

“He was very insightful, gave me lots of great notes and things to discuss. I wanted to start by saying that I understand the levels of abuse you went through,” She raises her head to meet his unsteady gaze, clocking the flustered expression.

“Yes,”

“The manipulation, the invalidation, the pain. Namjoon, no one should have to experience all of that, and yet, here you are. You are strong, you are powerful, you are dedicated to your brothers. None of it excuses what you have done, but what I want to convey to you, is that a lot of your actions were not your fault.” Dr. Aarons’ runs through the list of compliments she had jotted down, notes of what to say to create a safe space for Namjoon.

“I, I know,”

“I know you do; I also know that isn’t how you see it.” Dr. Aarons’ sets her pen down and recrossed her legs, eyes never straying from him. She’s formidable, honored and esteemed throughout the community, domestically and abroad. Namjoon knew, he helped picked her, she was the reason Jungkook was here.

“I still did the actions,” Namjoon sighs, “I still followed through with the plan,”

“Yes, but the cost to you and your life was exquisite. You were a pawn,”

“Now I am the victor,” He mumbles.

“Tell me, Namjoon, how old did you feel when you and Jungkook fought?”

“What do you mean?”

“Jungkook’s recounted his memory of that night, but how did you feel? In that moment when he hit you, what age specifically did you feel?”

He takes a moment to think, but the answer is in front of him immediately. “Fifteen,”

“What happened at 15?”

He shifts nervously, the rapid speed of his speech slowing as he spoke. “I was still being scouted by Big Hit, no contracts, just negotiations. My parents were, unsupportive.”

“Within the Seoul rap community, you were making a name for yourself,” Dr. Aarons’ didn’t have to be living in Korea at the time to know who he was, everyone in the first gen community who still had any ties back home knew. You couldn’t listen to music without his mixes coming through.  
“Yeah, but that only gets you so far. I was talking to Bang about these big plans for a super group, a group that combined rapping and pop, some bridge between the two and other genres… the places were going to go seemed endless.”

“How did you feel in those negotiations?”

Joon smiles. “I felt, ten feet tall. I mattered in those meetings,”

“And to your parents?” Dr. Aaron’s questions.

“I was just their high schooler, hormonal, with dreams bigger than my mind could hold. They, they didn’t want me to do it,”

“But you went for it,” She smiles gently.

“I did, yeah,” Namjoon, hates flattery. Call it his sun sensibility, his rays unable to shine under the humility of the grey cloud he kept above himself.

“What else happened around that time?” She presses.

Namjoon nods again, knowing exactly where she’s leading him. “That’s when I started receiving a lot of hate,”

“Mm, tell me about that,”

“Do I have to?” He asks, voice no longer strong and steady.

“Not if you don’t want to,” She replies.

“It’s just,” Namjoon sighs. “It still hurts.”

“I expect it to. The comments were very personal,”

“About how I look, about the shape of my nose, the sound of my voice, that I’ll never amount to anything and BTS is just, complete trash passing off as music.” He rattles off the ones that plague him, when self-doubt creeps in, the comments that still rise to the top of the pack.

“They escalated, didn’t they?”

“Don’t they always?”

She smiles softly, a precursor to the next blow. “Did you internalize them?”

“Yes,”

“When Jungkook hit you,” She starts.

“It was like every internet troll finally getting their chance to swing,” Namjoon doesn’t hesitate to finish the thought.

“Ahh, there it is.” Dr. Aaron’s allows Namjoon a minute to sit in the realization. “What hurt the most? The physical pain, or the emotional weight you put behind it?”

“I haven’t thought about it like that,” He realizes.

“Well let’s think about it now,” Her voice is kind, leading him to the pasture but never feeding. No wonder everyone raved about her.

“It was the emotions,” He concedes.

“Can you describe what those emotions were?”

“Anger, frustration, inadequacy, disappointment, like I had just shattered the entire world I’d given every bit of myself to creating.”

“That wasn’t why Jungkook was hitting you, though,” Dr. Aarons’ informs him.

“It wasn’t?”

“You tell me, why would he be hitting you?”

“I,” Namjoon exhales, “I betrayed him.”

“Did you let him down?”

“Yes,”

“But did he view you as inadequate?” She pushes.

“No,” Namjoon whispers, voice caught between his vocal chords as the waves of tears start to gain on him.

Dr. Aarons’ smiles again, “No, has he ever?”

“No,” Namjoon shakes his head, hand wiping the tears that have fallen.

“It seems to me like it’s quite the opposite. Jungkook loves you, pure and simple.”

“I betrayed him,” Namjoon argues.

“Betrayal and inadequacy are often put together, at least in our minds. We betray someone, or a relationship, because it’s either not enough for us, or because it’s too much. The dissonance between you and Jungkook is that his anger is misplaced, he can claw at you because you are there, you are present, you are with him every day. He’s shooting the messenger, but you didn’t write the messages, Namjoon.”

“I don’t know if he understands that,”

“There’s only so much I can do to separate what he feels towards you, and what he realizes isn’t your fault. In our time together, as a trio, we will hopefully work towards understanding these complexities within your relationship. Sound good?”

“Yeah, sounds good,”

“Great! I don’t have any work for you, other than, well, a major piece of homework,”

“Bring it on,” Namjoon loves work. Pure and simple.

“You can’t have dinner with Jungkook tonight, or engage with him in a private setting,” Dr. Aarons’ instructs.

“Makes sense,” Namjoon agrees.

“We’ll begin work on it tomorrow, but until then, you have to stay apart,”

“I can do that, we’re staying in separate places,”

“Great, Namjoon, I am really looking forward to working with you,” Dr. Aarons stands. “I hope you enjoy your day in LA,”

“See you tomorrow,” Namjoon smiles gratefully before exiting her office, his phone at the ready, texts from Yoongi and Hoseok, Taehyung and the rest of Bangtan to check in on him. And then there’s the text from his love, who as he steps into the sun, is waiting for him.

“Joon of my eye, what a pleasure it is to see you,”

Though the smile is clearly plastered across his face, it’s the way his arms circle your waist, head nuzzling into your neck, lips pressing firmly to your skin.

“I fucking missed you,” He mutters.

“You’re being so affectionate, in public,”

“No one’s here,” Namjoon says, head still resting against your shoulder.

“That eye opening, huh?” Your hands move up and down his back, the comfort radiating from your familiar embrace.

“Mm, can we go?” He asks, standing to his full height.

“To your place?”

“Anywhere,” He slips his sunglasses over his eyes, the mist beginning to cloud his vision.

“Of course,” You respond, hand finding his, fingers intertwining. With his baseball cap pulled low on his head, Namjoon is barely recognizable. He doesn’t hesitate to move his free hand across your shoulders, holding onto you as you guide him to your rental car. He might’ve been the messenger of Bang’s threats and manipulations, but a pawn is still a pawn. Namjoon had taken the board in his game against Big Hit, but in Jungkook’s universe, under Jungkook’s rules, he’s still a piece in motion. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (hope you like it ... I'm working on the rest ... see me on Tumblr or instagram for artwork)

**Author's Note:**

> (Hope you like it)


End file.
